Jacques plays us a lively reel, then puts his pipes away. I pour three bowls of mead, and we say a good luck toast for the new year and our new ventures in Tara.

"Now I shall play a haunting tune on my cruit called Port Na BPúcaí, about Mór of Cloyne, a Munster princess who escaped from the fairies, heard her sister singing inside a fairy mound and helped her escape by teaching her a magic harp tune."

And like magic, just as I touch the strings, gentle Lady Moss enters the shop. She sits quietly by Bridgette and closes her eyes. Soon the air inside shimmers with enchantment, while the snow outside sparkles in the sunlight. A flaxen-haired lad and lady go bounding by the shop door and I wonder what all the excitement is about. Not for long, though. Whenever I play an instrument, I lose myself in the music. It's the heart and soul of me.

My audience remains silent long after the last note. Finally Moss takes a deep breath and praises my playing.

"You are so gifted," she sighs. "I wish I could make a harp sing like that but I don't have time to learn. It might take me several lifetimes to even know how to pluck one string!"

I turn away quickly to hide my burning cheeks and place my cruit carefully back on the shelf. "Time for another round of mead," I say and pour four bowls this time. Moss takes a few sips and taps lightly on an old bodhrán hanging on the wall. She becomes quite fascinated with its resonance and grins with pleasure. "I can do this!" she says. "Is there something you'd like from Airmid's Well for trade?"

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"You have chosen the finest bodhrán in my shop! Some are fooled by its age. I cannot tell you who made it or exactly how old it is. A tribe of travellers passing through Dunadd and gave it to my father in exchange for supplies.

"What would I like from your shop? Dried lavender to freshen the room, oil of lavender for my washing water, a pouch of wintergreen and willow bark tea, and another of Egyptian mint. I would also like an ogham reading. Oh my! I hope I'm not asking too much."